


Belong

by strawberrymarss



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Highschool AU, M/M, Slight verbal abuse, Sort Of, breakdown?, hongjoong is tired, i'm projecting onto seongjoong, i'm sorry i know it's.. eh, mentions of maybe triggering things, seonghwa is his home, this can be read in platonic or romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:53:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21584872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberrymarss/pseuds/strawberrymarss
Summary: Hongjoong is overwhelmed.
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 4
Kudos: 122





	Belong

**Author's Note:**

> tw// slight verbal abuse, mentions of mental health stigma
> 
> hi it's me again lol anyway this one was written on the spur of the moment at 1am in one hour so rlly it's just me projecting onto seongjoong. the events that cause me to put the tw is not very major or too horrible, but just to be safe i put that tw there. their r/ship can also be read as platonic as well as romantic. btw they are hs students in here, not idols. also slight texting is included

It sometimes gets overwhelming for Hongjoong. He's used to the yelling, to the words rapidly leaving his mother's mouth insulting him, the disappointed, angry looks, the changes in tone which stabbed him and ripped him apart, he learnt to get used to it after 17 years of living with it. The way his mother constantly changed, one second telling him he's ugly and dumb, the next trying to hug him with all her might and telling him he's the best person she's ever known, he got used to it even though it meant a huge impact on his self-esteem and identity. He got used to it, being called her star one day, the worst son on Earth the next. 

He got used to doing his own thing and what he liked no matter what she said about it, learning to do them while tiptoeing carefully around to stay under the radar. He got used to watching her body language, got used to having his ears pricked up so that he could sense exactly when she starts to switch into the woman who didn't like him, when she starts to slowly get angry. He got used to acting like he's not hurt, because even if he tried to tell her, she'd scoff and say she never said any bad thing, say she never did anything so horrible to have hurt him. 

He stopped trying, even as the scars of being crushed under the pressure of having to achieve back when he was younger still hurts him to this very day, but he stopped trying to show her what she did wrong, he just lived with the pain and stopped trying to explain why he became this when she tries to confront him, and tries to convince him that it's all in his head, and even more, he stopped trying to retaliate when she *mocks* him over trying to care about his mental health. 

It's a grey mist of indifference. A void in him which can't be filled. Hongjoong got used to being happy and feeling complete when he was with his friends who made him feel like he belonged with them more than his own family, and then completely breaking apart once he's back alone under his covers in the darkness of his room. Hongjoong got used to letting things go, he got used to being stepped all over because she always walked all over him, throwing him around and then acting like she never did it, like he was a fucking rug instead of her son, so used to it his friends had to start training him to stand up for himself. 

He's used to it, but there are just times Hongjoong can't fucking take it and everything he's kept inside for months, no, for years, start fucking spilling and Hongjoong can't do shit about it. 

Like now.

His mother glared into the mirror, not even wanting to spare a glance at him.

"What do you mean you want a new phone?"

He doesn't want to look at her any longer. He's afraid it'd do more harm than good. 

"Well, I mean.. I gathered enough money for a new phone… From what Grandma gave me and all… so I just thought…" Hongjoong trailed off. For fuck's sake, why did he try? He knew what was going to happen. 

He felt the tears build up as she started talking about how he had to save up, save up, save up, how he's being dumb, dumb, how he's not being smart, how he doesn't know what the real world is. 

About how he's not going to make it. 

It hit a nerve. That fear of failing in life so hard he could never make it back up, it had always been gnawing at him, no matter how hard he pushed it to the back of his mind and tried to lock it away. Nightmares and nightmares of failing so horribly, nightmares and nightmares of being left alone and abandoned, lost and cold and nowhere to go, nights he spent crying alone in his room because he was just too afraid to go back to sleep and continue those terrors his head decided was a good idea to make him experience in his sleep, it all came back to him as her angry voice bled in and out of his ears. 

"Did you hear a word I said?" He nodded weakly at the question, feeling his tears well up. This isn't good. If he cries now, she'd just mock him and tell him he's weak and spoiled and that he would. Never. Make. It. 

"Yes, ma," he whispered softly. 

"You're not getting that new phone unless your phone broke or it's unavoidable. Learn to save up."

He shut his eyes. Here it comes.

"Or you'll never make it."

There it is. 

"Okay, ma."

"Now, go. I don't want to see your face. I'm tired." 

Hongjoong merely nodded and stood up, walking up to his room. He felt so out of it. He felt so… tired. It's not supposed to be a big deal, he's gone through this countless of times, why is this different? 

He knows the answer, he knows he's breaking apart because it just so happened this is his limit this time, but he doesn't like it. Just because it's the truth doesn't mean he has to like it. 

Once the door closed behind him, Hongjoong slid down to the floor, pressing his palms onto his eyes, as his lips quivered as he tried to suppress the sobs rising up in his throat. A choked sound escaped him as he stands up and walks over to his phone, unlocking it and scrolling with trembling hands until he found the contact he wanted to find. 

Seonghwa.

\----

joong: hwa

joong: hwa i fucking miss you

joong: i miss you and your hugs

hwa is typing…

hwa: aw baby

hwa: what's the matter?

joong: its so dumb

joong: but i can't take it im an emotional fucking bitch and i just 

joong: i dont know i just 

hwa: its okay

hwa: come over lets just chill ok?

hwa: ill get the drinks ready

\---

Leaving to go to Seonghwa's house isn't hard. Seonghwa is Hongjoong's childhood friend, and he lives only across the street. Even Hongjoong's mother knows Seonghwa's house is where she should look first if her son's gone too long and she was in the mood to care and not throw a fit. Hongjoong merely had to unlock his window and use his little path he had discovered during his rebellious teen phase, and walk around his row back out to the street separating his and Seonghwa's house and make his way to his friend's house. 

The boy sniffed, rubbing away at the tear streaks on his cheeks, trying to look a bit better than a complete fucking disaster. He dialed Seonghwa's number, calling him, wanting to inform his arrival.

"Just walk in," Seonghwa said, the same old familiar words spoken with the same old familiar warmth. "Door's unlocked. Just remember to lock it after you. Keys are in the same place. Go straight up, my family doesn't mind."

Hongjoong followed his instructions, just nodding quietly at Seonghwa's mother who looked worried, yet he knows she knows not to mention it to his unpredictable mother. He climbed the stairs heavily, going straight for Seonghwa's room, the path so familiar to him.

It's like going home, except he actually feels like he belongs. 

Hongjoong knocked softly on the familiar pastel blue door. The door opened, and Hongjoong sees the slightly elder boy's face smiling softly at him. 

"Hongjoong-ah, hi," Seonghwa greeted, opening the door fully. "Come in," he gestured, and Hongjoong entered the room.

When the door closed, Hongjoong immediately turned around and lunged straight into Seonghwa's already waiting arms. Seonghwa simply held him, petting his hair, already knowing what he needed. Hongjoong thought there was no use trying to scrub away his tear streaks, when he was just going to cry again, even harder this time. 

"There, there, shh," Seonghwa led them to the bed, sitting down and guiding Hongjoong to sit next to him and lean onto him, still in his arms. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Not now," Hongjoong shook his head. "Later," he rasped out between his sobs. 

"Shh, okay, sure, take your time," Seonghwa nodded, simply embracing him and humming a slow song. 

It's funny that Hongjoong doesn't feel like he belongs in those concrete walls across the street he's supposed to call home, but he feels like this is where he's supposed to be when he is in Seonghwa's arms, like he's safe from everything. Safe from his mother's knife-sharp words, safe from the crushing pressure, safe from the fears chasing him, safe from the taunts, safe from every single bad thing he ever had to encounter. He lamented this for a second, hoping one day his mother would change and he could finally feel like he belongs and can be himself when he's by her side, but Seonghwa's gentle voice calling him back to him pulled him out of his dark thoughts and worries about the future and he closes his eyes, listening to Seonghwa's gentle humming. 

Hongjoong knows he can't stay here forever, and he'd have to return before dusk or his mother will throw a fit and curse him despite saying she's worried, but for now, he held on tighter. To remember what it feels like to have somewhere he belongs.


End file.
